


Use Me, Love Me

by elfofthedarkside



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Body Writing, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Dom Pete Wentz, Edging, Is this an AU?, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Patrick Stump, Vibrators, bitch it might be, cant forget that, degredation, i want my kinky boys to be happy, im a terrible person, is there something else I should tag, kinda sappy at the end?, patrick's just kind of a pain/humiliation slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfofthedarkside/pseuds/elfofthedarkside
Summary: "I want to go harder than usual."Pete's been out of town for a while, and Patrick is getting desperate. Basically, my boy is a huge slut and Pete is more than happy to help... eventually.





	Use Me, Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yo like I woke up this morning and was like "you know what your brain needs? More Peterick smut to obsess over until you write it." And so I spent the whole day (on and off, I'm not crazy) writing this nearly 3k "masterpiece?"  
> Definitely am NOT projecting some of my kinks here *cough cough*

"I want to go harder than usual."

Pete blinked, pulling back from where he had been sucking a mark into Patrick's neck. "How much?"

Patrick sat up, meeting his eyes. "Um... I want you to tie me up."

"Okay," Pete replied, not understanding. They'd done plenty of light bondage in the past, and a little of the heavy stuff.

"I want it so I can't move." Patrick put his arms behind his back as if to demonstrate. "I want you to edge me with the plug and not let me come for a while."

"You've already been wearing that all day, and you haven't come since I left," Pete interjected. "I don't think you can last very long."

"I can," Patrick said, a determined look in his eyes. "If I can't, you can punish me until I have to come again." He paused. "I want you to tease me and hit me. Flogger, paddle, hands, I don't care. Pinch me, slap me."

"Alright." Pete was making a mental note of all this. "Anything else?"

"I want the collar. And the blindfold. And the gag." He broke eye contact, turning a bit red. "But before the gag, I want you to fuck my face. Right up against the headboard. Hard as you can."

Pete stared for a moment. "You... you sure?"

"I'm sure." Patrick pulled him in for a kiss. "It's been almost a month. I need it."

Pete smirked. "You sure you won't come right then? You love it when I use your mouth."

"I'll try to restrain myself," Patrick shot back with a matching grin.

-

"Okay, against the headboard, lean forward, arms behind you." Pete instructed, and Patrick obeyed. Patrick really was grateful that Pete had gotten the hang of the tying pretty quickly, as he never could have managed on his own. Pete was about to pull away to get the rest of the things, when Patrick stopped him.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

Patrick squirmed a bit. "Do you think you could connect the collar?"

Pete nodded, taking some of the slack from his hands and looping it through the collar. They had put the letters back on after coming home, so it now read: _SLUT_.

"This enough slack?" Pete pulled the rope tight enough that Patrick couldn't hold his head completely straight without feeling the pressure, but loose enough so that he could breathe.

"Yeah. That's good."

Pete spread Patrick's legs. "Ankles to thighs? Can you stretch like that for that long?"

"I, uh..." Patrick swallowed. "I actually got a spreader bar."

"You what?" Pete's eyes gleamed.

"Yeah. Like I said, I got lots of new toys while you were gone."

"Where is it?"

Patrick directed him, and soon his ankles were locked into place. Pete secured the bar to the bed with the remaining rope. "Okay. That immobile enough for you?"

Patrick twisted this way and that, thrashing a bit to test how it would hold when he got close. "Yeah. That should do it."

Pete was now setting up the tripod for the camera. He liked to have records of every new thing they did. Patrick, being a slut for attention, didn't mind. It may actually have made him harder just at the thought.

"Okay." Pete settled himself between Patrick's legs. "Now. Once the blindfold is on, the scene starts. When you don't have the gag, use your colors."

"Yes, sir."

"Can you knock against the headboard?" Patrick tried. Yes. He had to twist a bit, but it wouldn't be hard. "Good. If it gets too much, for any reason, you knock three times and shake your head."

"Yes, sir."

"I mean it, Patrick." Pete's voice was stern. "We've had issues in the past where you've been too stubborn to safeword out, even when it was hurting. Not the good kind. If you feel that switch, you let me know immediately. I will never punish you for that. Do you understand?"

Patrick felt a twinge of guilt. In the past, he had been afraid of disappointing Pete by telling him to stop. This wasn't their first conversation about it, and it probably wouldn't be the last. But Patrick nodded. "Yes. I'll go as far as I can, but only as long as it still feels good."

"Good boy." Pete kissed his forehead gently. "Also, I know you won't be able to last as long as you'd like. You haven't come since last time I saw you. So I'll edge you, but when it gets to that point where you have to come, no matter what I say or do, you knock twice. I'll give you permission then, if I haven't already."

"Got it." The blindfold is slipped over his eyes and tied in the back.

"Okay. Color?"

"Green."

Patrick heard Pete get up and switch the camera on, then return. The tone of Pete's voice immediately changed. "You had been such a good boy while I was gone. You didn't disobey me, and you didn't come. But then you had to go and use the plug today without my permission."

"I'm sorr-" Patrick's apology was cut off by a harsh slap to his face. He couldn't hold back the whine of joy as the delightful pain spiked through his cheek, surely turning it red.

"Did you forget my rules already, slut?" Patrick shook his head, lips pressed together. Pete grabbed a handful of Patrick's hair and tugged. "I thought so. You were so desperate for my touch when I got home. That's why I made you go out while wearing it. I marked you, in a place no one would see it without your consent first." A finger trailed across Patrick left collarbone, right above his heart, and he shivered. The words _Pete's slut_ were still there, black marker not yet faded. Pete dug his fingernails into the spot, causing Patrick to cry out. "But then, like the attention whore you are, you put on a nearly transparent shirt. Showing off your label, along with your new piercings..." Pete twisted cruelly at one of Patrick's nipples. "...which you also got without my permission. I had to punish you even further."

Fingertips dragged across Patrick's flesh, finding and pinching each of the other words: _exhibitionist whore_ below his spine, _fuck me_ on his hip, _pain slut_ above and beneath his right nipple. "You let that waitress and that sales associate mark you up-total strangers. You even let Andy from the tattoo parlor label you." Pete let out a harsh laugh. "But it didn't do any good. You got off on the humiliation, moaning loud when I shoved you into the dressing room and stuffed your mouth with my cock." Patrick nearly moaned again at the memory, but caught himself. "You're really just a desperate whore, aren't you?" Patrick nodded his head. "Say it. What are you?"

"I'm a desperate whore," Patrick whined, the words coming from his own mouth making his dick twitch.

"You're still hard." Pete let his finger barely graze over the leaking head, causing Patrick to gasp. He held the finger to Patrick's lips, and Patrick eagerly licked it clean. "Pathetic."

"Please," Patrick began, but Pete grabbed him roughly by the jaw, palm muffling the rest of his plea.

"Just can't obey at all today, can you? Worthless, disobedient slut." Patrick whimpered as Pete's grip tightened, definitely leaving bruises on the pale skin. "There's only one way to shut you up."

Patrick's mouth was hanging open before Pete even had a chance to take his cock out. "You want this so badly? Speak."

"Yes, yes, yes, I want it." Patrick really did feel desperate, unable to move or see, forced to do whatever Pete saw fit. He loved it.

"Such a pretty mouth," Pete said, running his thumb along Patrick's bottom lip. "This mouth loves cock, doesn't it? You'd take whoever and whatever was shoved in here, wouldn't you?"

"Yes." Patrick tried to stretch forward, searching for Pete, the collar pulling taut against his throat with delicious pressure. "I'd take anything. I want it so badly."

"If I left you alone for any longer than I did, you'd be on your knees for any man off the street, wouldn't you?"

"No, sir." The collar pulled tighter as he swallowed. "I know I'm not to be shared without your permission."

Pete's hands tangled themselves in Patrick's hair again, pulling his head up further. "Oh, so you're suddenly such a good boy?"

"When I want to be." Patrick dared to smirk blindly up at Pete. He knew he'd regret the comeback the next day, when his throat is raw and jaw still aches, but for now he's impatient and needs to be used. Pete complied, shoving himself all the way into Patrick's mouth without so much as a warning. Patrick gagged, but Pete ignored him, holding his head still against the headboard as he began to thrust his hips mercilessly. Patrick quickly tried to adjust, relaxing his throat to the hard length pounding against it. Already there were tears wetting the blindfold.

"You're gonna take it all, whore," Pete grunted, pulling Patrick's hair even harder. "I'm gonna use your mouth for my pleasure, not yours. This is the only fucking you'll get today; that's what you get for being a needy little slut."

Patrick felt words and moans trying to escape, only to be shoved back into his throat by Pete's cock. Still, he kept making the noises, knowing Pete liked hearing him. He didn't try to even use his tongue, just kept his jaw as wide as possible. Spit was basically pouring down his chin at this point; he felt worthless and hurt and used. Perfect.

Pete's rhythm began to falter. "I'm gonna come all down your throat, and you're gonna swallow it all. Right? Cause you're my little cumdump, nothing more."

"Mhm," Patrick choked. He felt his own dick throbbing, his hips twitching up, searching for any sort of friction. Pete noticed, because of course he did, and moved one hand down to join the collar, squeezing tight.

"I don't think so. Keep still, whore. This is for me. You don't get any pleasure I don't give you."

Patrick felt the familiar rush of adrenaline and blood as Pete put more pressure on his throat. He made an affirmative noise, pressing his hips down against the mattress. This didn't help, as now the plug that he had nearly forgot about nudged at his prostate, causing him to arch his back as far as he could with a whimper.

"Don't you fucking dare come," Pete hissed, before slamming himself one last time down Patrick's throat. Patrick could feel the white liquid flowing down his throat, Pete's cock throbbing as he tried to swallow fast enough so as not to choke. He felt some of it shoot up into his nose, burning hot as he struggled to breathe. Pete pulled away finally, both hands dropping away.

Patrick gasped and spluttered, coughing and gagging as a fresh wave of pain from where Pete had pulled his hair bloomed through his scalp. He realized some of the mindless noises coming from his bruised throat were sobs. But he didn't want to stop. Pete had never quite been this rough with him before, and it was incredible.

Pete, although he did give Patrick a moment to catch his breath, understood that no safeword meant the scene continued. Patrick could hear his partner-master-moving the camera to the other side of the room, probably to get a full shot of the next part. Patrick shuddered as he realized how he must look: sweat, spit, jizz, and tears slicking his face, lips and most likely throat bruised, legs spread wide to show his probably blood-dark cock leaking and hole stuffed with the same black plug he had inserted over four hours ago. Immobile. Helpless. Whorish.

Wonderful.

"You didn't come." Pete sounded vaguely surprised.

"I'm a good boy," Patrick panted, a strained grin stretching across his face.

"Not good enough, clearly." Pete was getting closer. "That cock-loving mouth of yours is still smart after all that? It's like you want to be punished."

Patrick considered replying with maybe I do, but wisely decided against it.

"Tell me, Patrick. What do you want?" Pete was right next to him now, breath hot against his ear.

"I want..." What did he want? "I want to come."

"And do you think you deserve to?"

Patrick's throat hurt, his voice coming out hoarse. "No, sir."

Pete pressed a thumb to Patrick's chin, urging him to drop his mouth open. "You're right, you don't." He paused, thinking. "Maybe if you can be obedient for the next fifteen minutes, I'll consider it. Do you think a dumb whore like you can do that?"

Fifteen minutes. Patrick bit back a groan. An eternity would be shorter. But he had asked for this. "Yes, yes. Please, let me show you how good I can be."

He felt the ball gag pressed to his mouth, and he opened further without another sound. Pete secured it behind his head, pulling it tight. Patrick hissed in pain as the straps on either side dug into the corners of his mouth.

"Maybe that'll keep you quiet, huh?" Patrick heard Pete shuffling some fabric around. "Aha, here we are."

A jolt ran through Patrick's spine as the vibrator was clicked on. He'd forgotten about that. God, this was going to be so much worse than he'd thought.

Pete's voice came from his left. "Does that feel good, slut?" Patrick struggled to nod. A sharp crack sounded, and a red-hot pain bloomed over his lower stomach, just above his dick. "It shouldn't. This is a punishment, remember?" Patrick moaned around the gag, throwing his head back against the headboard. Another strike from the flogger landed on the inside of his left thigh.

"You're so fucking needy," Pete growled, hand grabbing at Patrick's face and turning him. "You're so starved for touch, you'd probably beg me to beat you senseless if you could speak."

Patrick made a pleading noise in the back of his throat, which earned him yet another strike, leather meeting pale skin on the other thigh. "You should be thanking me for this," Pete told him, pushing his face away.

"Thhk youh," Patrick cried out, voice still desperate even when muffled.

"Good whore." Pete landed a few more strikes on Patrick, mostly focusing on his abdomen. Patrick heard the click of the remote, and nearly screamed as Pete turned the vibration up past the next level and on to the next-to-highest. Precum was dribbling down his cock, down his thigh, pooling right below where the plug still sits securely. Patrick was shaking, could feel his stomach muscles straining as he tried with all his willpower to concentrate on _not yet, not yet, be good, not yet-_

"You're close?" Patrick nodded, sobbing around the gag. Pete laughed. "No coming, slut. If you come now, I won't let you for another month."

Patrick could feel his grip slipping away. The sounds of Pete's voice and even his own pathetic cries fading into some far-off darkness. His head felt heavy, and the molten heat in his gut that threatened to burn him alive was the only sensation he could still completely feel. Dimly, he racked his brain for the instruction of what to do when it got too much, _too much, too much-_

"Now, Patrick."

It was as if a cord had been pulled taut, then snapped. The pleasure hit him like an actual train, bringing more pain but also relief. He was vaguely away of his body shuddering, the bed squeaking and shaking as he completely lost control. He felt a hysteric scream vibrate through his throat, though he heard nothing.

-

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back. Pete's voice was whispering and praising next to his ear, a hand rhythmically stroking up and down his arm.

"...so good, such a good job, so proud of you, Patrick..."

Patrick opened his eyes when he sensed reality had sort of returned. Everything-the blindfold, the gag, the collar, the bar, the rope, the plug, the camera-was gone. He met Pete's warm brown eyes with a tired smile.

"Hey."

Pete chuckled softly as the croaking sound Patrick made. "Hey." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Patrick blinked a few times as he sat up, still adjusting. "Did I..."

"You made it." Pete was beaming. "I'm so proud of you." He reached over to the bedside table and handed Patrick a full glass of water. "Here."

Patrick mumbled his thanks as he gulped the cold drink greedily. After he had drained it, Pete took the glass back and motioned for him to lay back again.

"Lemme take care of you," Pete smiled before carefully and methodically rubbing lotion all over Patrick's body. First the red marks on his stomach, then his thighs, then his ankles. He worked his way back up and massaged it into his chest, finally ending on his arms and wrists. Patrick sighed contentedly as Pete worked, watching lazily through sleep-heavy eyes.

"Stretch a little, see if anything is too sore."

Patrick did as he was told, wiggling his fingers and toes with a sigh. "I think I'm okay for now," he said.

"Good." Pete stood, turning off the light before burying them both under the covers. "Sleep now. We'll shower in the morning and wash that marker off, yeah?"

Patrick curled up closer, pressing his face into Pete's chest. He was warm and soft. Perfect.

"Thank you," he mumbled as he felt himself drifting off once more.

"I love you," was Pete's slurred reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhhh like was that good? My experience with bdsm includes one lackluster website, a couple fics, and shitloads of porn. So like, def not an expert. Please don't try at home unless you know safety shit. And ALWAYS. USE. A SAFEWORD. Patrick is a stubborn asshole, but things could get nasty if you don't tap out.
> 
> Anyways, the tiny Pete and Patrick that sit on my shoulders recently decided they will now only eat kudos. Please don't let them starve. Think of the boys. Comments are appreciated too.


End file.
